


the night we invented us

by OnyxSphinx



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Paris (City), absolute useless oblivious morons..............i love them so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:35:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22218679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxSphinx/pseuds/OnyxSphinx
Summary: Karla Gottlieb is painfully, painfully in love with her best friend.A trip to Paris ends up being exactly the solution needed.
Relationships: Karla Gottlieb/Vanessa Gottlieb
Kudos: 4





	the night we invented us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Macremae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macremae/gifts).



> i wrote this.......like october of last year??? but it got forgotten in my drafts so i'm only posting it now. big thanks to newton for fixing up some things and making it overall better 
> 
> anyway karnessa rights fuckers

[Oct. 3]

“Let’s go to Paris,” Vanessa says.

It’s three days into October; the sun beating down outside, hot still, but here, beneath the shade of the deck umbrella, it’s pleasantly cool; water-vapour beads on the water-pitcher on the table, the glass fogged up; a few slices of lemon bob at the surface.

Karla shifts in her deck chair. “Paris?” she asks, “why?”

The other shrugs; reaches for the pitcher, white-painted nails stark against her dark skin; pours two glasses of lemonade; offers one to Karla. “Thought it would be fun,” she says. “Take a week, go see the sights, you know. Girls trip like the movies, but minus the dead stripper.”

The fingers of Karla’s other hand tightens on the arm of her chair, even as she reaches for it; careful not to touch. Much of their relationship is founded on this, it seems: carefully, carefully; unspoken lines it seems only she can see; don’t cross the line, or—

(...or?)

She swallows the lemonade; granules of unmelted sugar staying on her lips. She thinks on it.

“Kar _ la, _ ” Vanessa says.

“Oh, alright,” Karla says with a sigh; smiles, slightly, when the other lets out a cheer.

The breeze picks up; in the distance, a crow caws, and the scent of flowers tumbles from the trailing vines on the side of the house, but Karla has eyes only for Vanessa, who’s moved on to making flower-crowns, grinning brightly as she offers one to Karla.

[Oct. 5]

It’s all going fine up until they get on the plane.

“I think I’m going to throw up,” Vanessa hisses, gripping her arm tightly; face waxy. “Sweet baby Jesus Lord Christ on the cross. Motherfuck. Oh, Karls,  _ why are we here— _ ”

Karla awkwardly pats the other’s arm; leans forward to pull out the airplane bag from the back of the seat before her. “Here,” she says, “ _ please _ don’t throw up on me, ‘Ness.”

“Hng,” Vanessa groans, and snatches bag from her hands; grip white-knuckled.

Finally, the plane stops shaking; the world tilting away beneath them outside the little window; houses and cars and plots of land like children’s toys; by her, Vanessa’s breathing evens out. “I hate planes,” Vanessa says.

“ _ You’re _ the one who said we should take a plane,” Karla points out.

Vanessa shushes her. “We’re trading spots,” she says, “I can’t deal with the window, and I need to go use the bathroom. Move, darlin’.”

Karla chokes on the inhale; begins coughing. Somehow, though they’ve been friends for over a decade, she’s still not used to the other’s terms of endearment. Vanessa doesn’t notice, thankfully, and Karla presses against the back of the seat when the other moves past, careful not to touch.

When Vanessa gets back, the stewardess has already come by with the meals. “I got you a noodle dish,” Karla says, gesturing to where it’s set on the tray. “And some saltines.”

“Aw, what a gentleman.” Vanessa grins. “Once I eat, do you wanna watch anything?”

“I...” she hesitates;  _ bad idea, _ she knows, but Vanessa bats her eyelashes and—“Oh, alright.”

“ _ Yes, _ ” Vanessa cries, “alright, give me a few...”

They watch some cliche-filled film Karla doesn’t even remember the plot of, let alone the name; this is, at least, in part because she spends a good majority of the portion watching Vanessa’s reactions rather than watching the  _ film. _

By the end, though, there’s only a few more hours left; outside, the sun’s set, and the overhead lights have flicked on.

Vanessa yawns. “Wake me up if we crash or there’s snakes,” she says, pulling out her earbud. “G’night, Karls.”

“Sleep well,” Karla returns, and her own eyes begin to feel heavy as well.

Then, suddenly; a weight on her shoulder; she freezes, barely breathing.

Vanessa shifts slightly, making herself comfortable, leaning against her side.

Karla takes a careful,  _ careful _ breath.

[Oct. 6]

Paris is—

Paris is...alright. Honestly, Vanessa is the one who’s enthusiastic about this endeavour; Karla’s happy enough that they have a place to stay and good food to eat; she doesn’t need to see the sights.

Vanessa, though, is insistent. “Come  _ on, _ ” she says, “Karla, baby, we might never come back—we  _ gotta _ go to the Eiffel Tower! And then after that, we’re going out to a fancy place to eat.”

“So  _ that’s _ why you told me to bring my—”

“Ah, ah, ah!” Vanessa cuts in, “nope, don’t  _ tell _ me, silly; it’s bad luck.”

_ Isn’t that only for couples that are about to be married? _ Karla doesn’t say. Perhaps Vanessa’s family has odd traditions—it wouldn’t surprise her. “Alright,” she says, infusing the single word with as much dubiousness as she can.

“Great! Good. Okay,” Vanessa grins, a nail tapping on her thigh. Karla’s known her long enough to spot her tells, when she’s thinking too hard, when her body’s just beginning to thrum with anxiety, but she doesn’t pry. “Now, get to bed—tomorrow, we’re going to the Eiffel Tower!”

[Oct. 7]

They go to the top of the Eiffel Tower.

It’s quiet, up here; this far above the ground, the sound of the city below them is muted; the atmosphere, almost unbearably intimate, and Karla keeps her gaze fixed on the ground as she follows after Vanessa.

The windchill is enough that she pulls the jacket tight; buttons it. “Why’d we come all the way up  _ here? _ ”

When Vanessa turns, she looks unexpectedly nervous. “Karla, I wanted to—”

“ _ Yes! _ ”

The cry interrupts them; then, again, “Yes, oh—oh, of course I do! I do, I do!”

A couple, Karla realises; one just proposed.

Vanessa’s expression shutters. “Nevermind,” she mutters, “let’s get back to the hotel. You were right—it’s fucking cold up here.”

Karla worries her lip, but doesn’t push it.

[Oct. 8]

Vanessa spends an hour before their dinner reservation in the bathroom.

When she finally emerges, Karla nearly has a heart-attack; the other’s dressed in a deep, dark red, and her earrings, though simple gold, compliment it. She looks... _ breathtaking. _ Karla suddenly feels under-dressed in comparison in her suit.

“Your dress...flatters you,” she manages, finally.

Vanessa raises an eyebrow. “Turnbull and Asser? Guess I know what book you were reading on the plane.” Her gaze drags; lingering, something unreadable in her expression, before it snaps up to Karla’s. “Let’s go.”

“Er—yes, we should,” Karla agrees, checking her watch. “We’ve got some time, but—well, better safe than sorry.”

She holds the room door open for Vanessa—obviously, Karla’s nervous but she’s not a heathen—, who pauses just outside and looks back. Blinks. She opens her mouth to say something, then closes it, then opens it again. Then, just: “You look good.”

The place is nice; not so much so that she feels out of place, though; Vanessa, seated across from her, barely seems to notice, buried in her menu. Finally, she makes her decision—something Karla can’t pronounce, and a bowl of ice-cream.

Dinner passes far more quickly than she expects; almost before she blinks, they’re done, and the waiter’s brought in a  _ truly _ enormous bowl of chocolate ice-cream.

“You’re sure you can eat all of  _ that? _ ” Karla questions.

“Oh, I’m not,” Vanessa says cheerfully, “you’re going to help.”

“ _ What? _ ” Karla manages, “Ness, you’ve got to be  _ kidding— _ ”

“Dark chocolate,” Vanessa continues, “which is your favourite, and if there were any city to say fuck it and indulge, Paris is it.” She holds out a spoon and winks. “No guillotine, promise.”

After a moment, Karla takes it.

They  _ do _ manage to finish it, somehow; Karla feels like she’s eaten a year’s worth of ice-cream, though.

“Karla,” Vanessa says, suddenly.

“Yes?”

“Karla,” she says, again, and then, “what would you say, if, theoretically. Considering. Stuff. Behaviorally, at least; what would you say if someone had been in love with their best friend for years?”

Karla’s breath stutters in her throat. “Ness...”

“Because,” Vanessa says, and takes a deep breath, “because I— _ I’ve _ been in love with you for years. Which is so weird because you know that it’s, like, not a thing for me to keep stuff down, and I know I’ve been acting weird this whole time, and you’re like, probably totally freaked out and that’s fine.” She’s beginning to ramble now. “It’s fine, it is, and I’m not saying this to guilt trip you or make you feel like you have to say something back, or anything because you don’t! Like, this isn’t a whole ‘I’m gay you’re gay let’s make Dorothy our third wheel’; you totally can say no, but I do think you  _ deserve _ to know because you’re my  _ best fucking friend _ and I, to like, quote seminal artist of our generation Taylor Swift, don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you or whatever, so. So. I was going to tell you last night, at the Eiffel Tower, but,” she stops; purses her lips.

Karla wipes at her eyes; blinks rapidly. “Ness,” she croaks, “oh—oh. I...I love you, too.”

“...oh,” Vanessa breathes for the first time in half a minute, gaze meeting hers, and grins. “Oh!”

Karla grins back, so wide it hurts, almost; hand, under the table reaching to lock with the other’s. “I love you,” she says, again, and grins wider; painfully so, caught up in the euphoria of the moment.

Across from her, Vanessa’s eyes sparkle, crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes. “I love you too,” she says.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at [autisticharrow](https://autisticharrow.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


End file.
